Life after Death
by Underwater Dreaming
Summary: After losing his shinigami powers, Ichigo dies. Thus begins his new life... In North Rukongai 66. [hiatus]
1. Life after Death

Another one of those stories that, thus far, was only on my AO3. Now, everything is up to date. I think.

I'll post this one a little slower... there are a few chapters... so as not to spam the few people who subscribed to me, and get some more readers. LOL.

* * *

 _Reiryoku. The power of the soul._

 _Reiatsu, which is manifested by using that so called power of the soul._

It's one of things he can remember her telling him, back 'then'. The drawings she used to show him were so funny.

He winces, rubbing the back of his head in a remembered pain. She had a fierce kick on her, that one.

He recalls how she would sit, perched with all the grace of nobility, eating sandwiches. Delighting especially in the ones with cucumber or eggs. The way she'd smile fondly at him from time to time, when she thought he wasn't watching. Now if only he could remember her name!

He knows a lot of things about her, but that one thing still evades him.

He lets out a sigh, and it's not for the first time. It's not as if he cares, honestly. Not really. It's just that she is one of the strongest memories of his time being alive that he has left.

In fact, one of the only ones he has. Her eyes, filled with tears. A swift kick to the solar plexus. Clothes torn, covered in blood, so much blood.

He shakes his head vigorously. There are good and bad memories. And sometimes he wishes the bad would just disappear. A flash of orange hair. A woman collapsed on the ground, blood pooling around her.

The words of his small 'soul family' trickle back to him. The memories of your past life are precious, no matter what they are. Although because of them, he knows one thing for certain.

He will never meet her. Because she is a Shinigami, and he is a mere wandering soul.

A dog of Rukongai.


	2. The Afterlife is no Paradise

Chapter 2 is here. Thanks for the reviews! I didn't expect any :P But I love them all the same~

I had five of these written so far. I'll probably end up posting the rest by the end of the week ending the 25th. Although, the original 2 and 3 are quite shorter than the others so I have combined them.

* * *

When he first came to Soul Society, he was confused. His mind was covered in a thick blanket of nothing. He couldn't speak, or hear, or touch. He'd stared wide-eyed up at the sky, the blue blue sky, mind void of any thought whatsoever.

Then slowly, the realization had come- and from where he didn't even know, but it was everywhere in his mind- he was dead.

And yet, he still breathed. He could hear the wind, feel the grass beneath his fingers. In the distance, the sound of chatter from children.

Soul Society. The name slid into his thoughts, familiar and yet he'd never heard it before. A whimsical smile danced before his eyes, before vanishing. Thank you-

This is the afterlife, then. He'd thought.

As he slowly clawed his way to sitting and dragged himself up to shakily stand, he smiled up at the _too-blue_ sky and heads for the nearest town on unsteady legs.

Here's hoping the afterlife will be a good life.

.

.

.

 _North Rukongai Sixty-Six was an utter slum, filled with decrepit and decaying souls that had not a speck of hope amongst them._

.

.

.

After taking his first step into the area, he had paused to look around the area curiously, when a group of foul smelling thugs had surrounded him. It didn't take brains to figure out what they wanted, but with so many of them, fighting back was decidedly foolish.

He wasn't sure why he did try to fight them off, but he did. Fists swinging wildly, legs tangling in themselves, he tripped over before they even landed a single punch.

They laughed rancorously and quickly divested him of his clothes and shoes. He was kicked, punched, spat on, and they were even going to steal his underwear, were it not for the disgusted sneer of one of the gang. They kicked him a few more times, and after a few muttered threats, they left.

It was from this experience he realised that North Rukongai Sixty-Six wasn't a nice place, and that the afterlife was probably going to fucking suck.

Time passed as he lay there in the streets, battered and in pain, baking in the sun. Someone walked up to him, their shadow blocking out the brightness. He opened his eyes to see who had bothered to check on him, when a bundle of fabric was unceremoniously thrown on top of him.

He shot up, tender muscles and bruises complaining at the sudden motion. Looking at the fabric in his lap, he noticed it was a pair of dusty grey hakama and matching obi belt. He looked up, to thank whoever had given him this... But there wasn't anyone around. No-one spared him anything more than a passing glance.

Standing slowly with a wince, and carefully pulling on the pants, he thought to himself that maybe Rukongai wasn't such a bad place after all.


	3. Rukongai 6-6

Chapter 4. Two more still to post...

Well, I didn't mean to take so long. Life happened, I guess.

* * *

He isn't sure how long he's been in this town now. North Rukongai Six-Six. Or, as the locals have dubbed it, "The Dune". It's because there is sand everywhere. Sand in his mouth, sand in his fundoshi, sand in places he doesn't even care to mention. At first, his feet were rubbed raw to the point of blisters and being painful to touch. He'd walk down the street and leave a trail of bloody footprints in his wake. But slowly, calluses had begun to form on his feet.

His back was a mess of sunburn and peeling, flaky skin, pale complexion withering under the unceasing heat of the sun bearing down. His shoulders and feet twinged with each step, but he had slowly grown used to it.

* * *

After arriving in 66, being robbed and then taken pity on, he hadn't known quite what to do with himself.

He wasn't sure what people even did in the afterlife! Do they work? For money? He isn't quite sure why they would work, though. After all, nobody here seemed to ever eat anything. He didn't, either. And so what was the point of working?

This left him with a lot of unused time on his hands.

...So, he ended up people watching. He'd find and out-of-the-way corner somewhere, brushing away built up sand and slumping down in it, observing the people going on their day-to-day business.

The first thing he noticed was the feet. You could tell who lived here and how long they'd been here from the way their feet looked. If they were bleeding, like his, they were definitely new to the area. Otherwise, they'd been here a while. Then, there were those that wore shoes. These people either weren't from around here, or they had stolen the shoes of someone else. He thought back to his first day in this place, and grit his teeth.

Innocent, helpless souls like himself, who arrived in this place without a clue of what was happening around them. Quickly attacked and robbed of their possessions.

He curled up. hugging his legs to his chest. He'd never found out about the person that had 'donated' these pants he wore, but they had become torn and ragged over the time he'd been here. He turned to stare up at the sky. The too-blue sky. That vivid blue was almost nostalgic, somehow. But as time wore on and the days passed, it seemed to get a bit more grey.

* * *

One day, another day of sitting, dozing, and watching people and the sky, he saw something he hadn't seen before. A caravan.

He blinked, sitting up straight. There was an old, greying man instructing a group of younger looking men. They were all wearing clothes a great deal fancier than any he'd ever seen around here before. He wondered what they were doing here, in this dirty hovel of a town.

Their purpose became apparent however as a few of them began unloading some boxes, heading for one of the rundown shacks that functioned as a shop in this place. For whatever reason, there were many teahouses here, despite the fact that nobody ate anything... He found it completely mind boggling.

If they were smart though, these merchants would leave this town as quickly as possible, before they attracted the wrong kind of attention. He sighed and settled in his corner, when it struck him.

There people were going to leave. They were going to leave this town and go somewhere else. He blinked rapidly. If they were going to leave, maybe they'd take him, too?

He stumbled to his feet and ran off to where the merchants went.


End file.
